


Lady Hamilton’s dressing table

by SzonKlin



Series: Halcyon [8]
Category: The Halcyon (TV)
Genre: Gen, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 06:07:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17017176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SzonKlin/pseuds/SzonKlin
Summary: Five things stand out on Lady Hamilton’s dressing table: a phone, a ring, a newspaper, a mirror, and a bottle of pills.





	Lady Hamilton’s dressing table

Lady Hamilton’s hand was white as a sheet and trembling as she still held the phone, her mother’s voice echoing in her ears.

_How could you let this happen?_

_Such a scandal!_

_Such a shame!_

_You are not some common celebrity, you are a Lady! The details of your private life don’t belong on the pages of newspapers._

_What were you thinking? Talking to that woman in public! Airing your dirty laundry!_

Tears prickled her eyes as they strayed to the ring on her finger. She knew what she was getting herself into when she married Lord Hamilton. She never had any illusions about love, respect, or loyalty. Their union was a business transaction. The Hamiltons needed the money and the Brantons needed the name. So at 19, she dutifully married the 35-year-old Lord Hamilton and set about to do the job she was raised to do: to be the perfect wife, host parties to soften up the people He wanted to deal with, run His household so He could concentrate on His politics, and to give an heir to the Hamilton name and Branton money.

She hoped to have a daughter, someone she could teach not to be so scared and obedient as she was, someone she could teach to follow her own heart and not be led by tradition, but when she gave birth to two boys, His need for an heir was satisfied and though He continued to act the part of a loving husband and doting father – necessary to please His conservative voters – He never touched her in private anymore. He barely even talked to her.

So, she went about her duties, she hosted parties and ran the household and supervised the upbringing of the children. And she kept up her smile. But when they attended a fundraising gala two days ago and in walked Charity Lambert, His latest mistress, wearing the very same set of jewelleries she had pointed out to Him not long ago, she couldn’t hold it in anymore.

When she walked up to Miss Lambert, followed by her entourage of politicians’ wives she trusted all the sense of superiority that was drilled into her since she was a little girl to help her to run the woman out of their circles, but she didn’t count on Miss Lambert’s lack of shame or discretion. In the end it was Miss Lambert who walked away, victorious, leaving her behind in shambles, devastated, surrounded by people whose strenuous respect she has just lost. She hardly even noticed the flashes of the cameras. But she couldn’t miss His outraged eyes and she knew that she lost everything that night.

But He didn’t come home that night. He hasn’t come home since. What came were the papers.

Her shame printed in black and white on the front pages.

Photographs of her, standing defeated, champagne staining the bottom of her dress, broken pieces of a glass by her feet. She didn’t even realize she had dropped it as all her strength had left her.

A confession from Miss Lambert, claiming that she was paid to act as if she was His mistress. A blatant lie, no doubt forced out by one of His aids to preserve His reputation as a respectable and good man.

And speculation upon speculation, presented as facts, describing how she was becoming unstable, supported by carefully crafted statements from Lord Hamilton.

She stared at the papers scattered around her vanity and she understood. She was trained for a job for the first 19 years of her life. A job she completed in a few years, and then she became superfluous, a prop at the most in the play that was His life. And with caused, she became a nuisance. A hindrance to His wishes, something to be dealt with, disposed of. She had a purpose, she fulfilled it and for the rest of her life she would be nobody, sent to the country, never to be thought of.

She looked up at her reflection. She was beautiful. It wasn’t her virtue, there was a small fortune behind the expertly constructed façade. But now there was nothing to cover the circles under her eyes. Her hair lay flat on her head. Her lips were pale and chapped. Her eyes re with unshed tears.

It has been years since she last looked at herself without makeup on. Even minutes after delivery, her maid was hurried in to craft that ‘tired but still beautiful’ look on her face, lest anyone might see that she was just like any other person after giving birth to a pair of twins.

Quite without her permission, her hand reached out and pushed the papers, the phone, and everything else off the dressing table. For a moment she revelled in the clatter of containers dropping, boxes spilling over, bottles of expensive perfume shattering. Letting the noise drown out the echoes of her shame.

Her eyes got caught on an orange bottle. ‘ _A good night’s sleep is essential to preserve your youthful beauty,’_ her mother used to say and so she has been taking pills to sleep since she was 15 almost every night. She hasn’t taken any since the incident, afraid that she might fall asleep and wake up in the country home. But not the bright orange of the bottle seemed to draw her in, like a beacon, shining in the fog, showing the way.

She picked it up, to take a pill. Just a little sleep and it might give her the strength to face tomorrow. She opened the bottle but her trembling hand slipped, and five pills spilled onto her open palm. Maybe she could take two. The doctor said she could, if she really needed it.

Two pills to sleep just a little longer, without any nightmares. And if she woke up in the country, at least it would be over and done with. Or she could take them all.

They said she was unstable, maybe they were right. She did her duty, played her part and now she could step down. Now she could rest. She could escape her mother’s shaming, His rage, her own pain. Her glass was shattered but there was a bottle of water on the floor.

She picked it up and put it on the table. She looked at the bottle of pills. It was almost full, it would surely be enough. She uncapped the water and spilled more pills into her hand, as much as it could hold.

Then suddenly the pills fell from her hand, being knocked out by a warm little hand, clumsy fingers reaching for her.

“Ma,” came a soft, tired little voice. She froze for a second, and that was enough for the little three-year-old to climb into her lap. “Bad dream,” the little voice explained, and short arms wound themselves around her neck, a mess of curly locks nesting under her chin. Tears soaked into her dressing gown as sobs shook the tiny body.

“It is alright, my baby,” she whispered. “It will al be alright, Toby. Mommy’s here, I’ve got you. Mommy will always protect you,” she promised as she gently rocked her son, letting her own tears fall. They sat like that until the little sobs gave way to a gentle snoring as Toby fell asleep, feeling safe in Mother’s arms.

When her precious burden fell asleep, she rose and carried her baby to the nursery. She put Toby down in one bed, smoothed the unruly locks and sat down in the rocking chair in the corner.

As she watched over her sleeping sons, she knew her life was far from over, but it was only just beginning. For the first time in her life she had a real purpose, one that she would never give up. She would no longer play her part, from now on she would fight. She wouldn’t let Him twist the two boys into pawns in His schemes. She wouldn’t let society force them into unhappy lives like she was. They would grow up to be happy and loved.

There would be nothing she wouldn’t do to make sure that her boys would be able to follow their hearts.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry that this turned out a little glum and if you are following me or the Space Between, sorry I haven't been posting for a while but I had and still have a lot on my plate (I have submitted my final thesis project and am now preparing for my final exam, together these two will make up most of my bachelors degree that I have been working on for a long time). I will probably return to posting sometime in January.
> 
> Also we are working on something great with the lovely inner_tempest, I can hardly wait to share it with you guys!


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